


A Knight's Quest

by A_Shippers_Life



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean is a Knight, I'd add more tags but I don't want to give the story way., Kinda, Maybe Arthur Pendragon, OFC - Freeform, On Hiatus, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Pretty much absent John Winchester, Sam is like his squire who sorta forces Dean to take him along, Slow Build, Teacher Lancelot, Youngish Merlin (at the start he's in his really early twenties), like really really slow build, teacher Merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:37:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8467468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Shippers_Life/pseuds/A_Shippers_Life
Summary: Dean had always assumed that he would follow in his fathers footsteps and kill the things no one else would. He had always assumed that he would get his parents home after they died since he was the oldest. He had assumed... his future was set and he knew what it was. But when two people from a time he tried so hard to ignore, find a way to nudge their way into his everyday life, he feels that his future isn't all he assumed it to be.______________________________________________________________________Castiel had always assumed that he would live all his days in the tower, sitting there reading, learning to sew, learning to do anything he was able to. He had always assumed that he would never meet anyone but the old women that came in once in a while to make sure he was okay and give him new clothes and a better veil to hide his face. He had assumed... his future was in set and held in the hands of others, the others who told him what to do and how to do it. But when he wakes up to the handsome man he had tried so hard to forget standing over him, he finds that his future isn't all he assumed it to be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So the year might be a little confusing for some.  
> So it's set kind of at the same time as Arthur and his knights, but they talk like modern times. And it doesn't really even touch on the story of Arthur.

**Prologue**

12 years ago

It wasn’t the first time he had woken up with no idea of how he had gotten somewhere. But it was the first time he woke up in an actual bed, though not his own. Looking around he noticed the room was strangely empty, yet still managed to feel quite homey. The room held just the bare minimum; a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. Which looking closer held his clothes, nice and folded on top. Pulling the blankets up to double check, and, yup, he was naked. At that moment the door opened.

“Hey kid, you up yet?” The figure in the doorway asked. Startled, he gripped the blankets tighter to himself.

“Who... who are you? Where am I? How did I get here?!”

“Names Lancelot, and kid, I was hoping you could tell me that.” He responded, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What do you mean ‘hoping I could tell you’?! I went to bed last night then wake up here,” he started to yell, waving his arm around. “NAKED!!”

“Then you don’t remember?” Lancelot asked, looking a little confused.

“Remember what?! Being kidnapped by a perv. NO!”

“Kid, kid, calm down.”

“My name is Dean.” He said pointedly at the man. Calming down when he realized that he was in no eminent danger.

“Alright Dean, I think you should get dressed and come on down to eat. Breakfast is almost ready.” Lancelot moved to stand up slowly, as to not startle the child. He left the boys’ clothes at the end of the bed and headed out of the room.

Grabbing his clothes, he rushed to put them on, not trusting the man to give him enough time to properly get dressed. Rummaging around with his pants, he found the knife his father always made him carry. Strapping it back down where it belonged, he nudged the door open, trying to be as quiet as possible. As he snuck further down the hall he could hear voices arguing.

“…so help me! He is a child! I have helped you with a lot of things but kidnapping is something we can’t do.”

“But you said that he was the one!”

“I know what I said! But,” there was a pause here, so Dean took the chance to glance around the corner. The second voice he recognized as Lancelot’s but it was the first voice that worried him. It sounded old and knowledgeable, but now looking at the owner of the voice he sees that the man couldn’t have been more than twenty. And his hands were on fire.

That got Dean moving. He ran around the corner, grabbed the guy’s arms, rushed him over to the pump, and started to drown his hands in water until the fire was out. Using the bottom of his shirt to dry his hands, he looked them over.

“Of all the idiotic things I’ve seen, someone standing there with their hands on fire. Like it’s the most normal thi… Why aren’t your hands burnt?” Dean asked still looking at the hands flipping them over to examine the back, then the front, over and over, looking for the evidence that they had just been engulfed in flames.

Laughing the guy pulled his hands back. He shacked his hands, and flicked his fingers, then his hands were covered by flames again. _WHAT THE HELL!!_ _Nope, nope, nope._ Dean repeated in his head as he spun around has fast as he could, running in the opposite direction of the house. He had almost made it to the trees that surrounded the house before the man with the flaming hands appeared in front of him.

He just let out a sigh and placed a hand on top of Deans shoulder. The next thing Dean knew he was back in the kitchen of the cabin.

“What are you?!” He yelled, pulling out and brandishing his knife, dropping into a better position to defend himself from whatever he needed to. Moving his knife to point between Lancelot, who was now on his right, and the mystery man, who was still in front of him. He wanted answers.

“Dean, Dean. Just put the knife down and we can talk.” Lancelot said calmly from his right, trying to plicate the boy. Not wanting anyone to get hurt, he made his way over to Dean and grabbed at his knife, and wrestled the boy to the ground. “Now listen Dean, this,” he said, waving a hand at the other man, “is my friend. His name is Merlin and he can do magic. It sometimes gets a little out of control when he can’t control his emotions. We didn’t mean to scare you, but we have things, very important things we need to discuss with you. Okay?” Lancelot asked, Dean just nodded.

“And I wasn’t scared.” Dean mumbled under his breath as they let him up. Wiping the dust from his pants, he took a seat at the table, and grabbed a piece of toast. “What do we need to talk about?”

“Well, for starters, how old are you?” Merlin asked him, sitting in a chair on the other side of the table with a glass of water.

“I’m ten.” Dean answered, reaching for another piece of toast when he spotted the bacon and took some of that instead. But when it looked like Merlin wasn’t all too happy with that answer Dean quickly added on to his answer. “Though I’ll be eleven in a few months.”

“Where do you come from Dean?”

"The good town of Winchester.” Dean started talking quieter and shrunk into himself, feeling like this is one of those times in school when Dean had accidentally done something wrong and his father had found out.

“How did you get here?”

“I don’t know.”

“You must, Dean, how did you get here?”

“I don’t know.”

“How did you get here!?” Merlin yelled, slamming his hand down on the table, making Dean flinch. Lancelot put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and whispered something Dean couldn’t hear in his ear. When Lancelot let go Merlin stood up and left the room.

“It’s alright Dean. Hey, hey, I know he can be scary when he loses his temper, but I’m just going to ask you one more question, alright.” Lancelot told Dean quietly, kneeling in front of Deans chair so they were both at eye height. Dean just nodded, rubbing his hands on his thighs, trying to calm his nerves. “How long have you been sleepwalking?”

Deans head shot up, “How did you know I’ve been sleepwalking?”

“Lucky guess. But I need you to answer the question Dean. How long have you been sleepwalking?”

“Awhile, I guess.” Dean shrugged trying to stay calm.

“I need details Dean. Lives could be in danger here!” At this point Dean could see that Merlin had reentered the cabin, but was just leaning against in the doorway.

Letting out a shaky sigh and rubbing his hands on thighs again he answered. “It started a last year. It wasn’t that bad. I would wake up and I’d just be behind my door. But then I found myself waking up further and further from my room. I would wake up and be in the kitchen, or a hallway. Most of the time I was still in the house, or on the grounds. But then…” Dean paused to collect himself. After a few minutes, he took in a breath and continued, “But then, a few months ago, it got worse. A lot worse. I would wake up and I would be in the town square, or the other side of town completely. A few times I woke up in the next town over. My father found out then. So he…” taking a deep breath, he continued to wipe his hands, making his hands turn red. But he embraced the slight pain it caused as he went on. “So he, he would tie me down to my bed. To make sure that I wasn’t in danger. And when I woke up the ropes wouldn't be tied but I was still in bed. But then he left for… for work, and I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal so I didn’t tell mother. And I was fine for a while, I would go to bed, and wake up still in bed. I thought whatever it was, was done. Then the dreams started.” He gave a shaky laugh at the thought, and ran his hand down his face, “then I woke up here.” He wrapped up deciding he had said enough.

He had been so engrossed in telling his story he hadn’t noticed the glances that Lancelot and Merlin had been sharing. So when Merlin disappeared, then reappeared holding a medium sized wooden box, he didn’t think too much on it. That is, he didn’t think much on it until he heard them say to touch it.

“Um, what?”

“Touch the box.” Insisted Merlin, pushing the box into Deans space. Shaking his head, no, he pushed the box away. His hand hadn’t even left the box when it started to glow. _Shit_. “I thought so.” Merlin hummed, as the box glowed so bright that Dean had to cover his eyes.

By time he was able to see again, the box had stopped glowing but now had words carved all along the top. Curious, Dean picked it up and began reading:

 

_**Yang and yin, Yin and yang; Wrong and right** _

_**Born of sky and ground; Banished and hidden away** _

_**Born of light and love; Welcomed and cherished** _

_**Raised in fear and hatred; Taught mistrust and treachery** _

_**Raised in honor and pride; Taught faith and loyalty** _

_**Yang and yin, Yin and yang; Good and bad** _

_**Angels, Humans, Demons; Battles won and battles lost** _

_**Future saved and future changed; A future made right.** _

_**The path is long and hard and dark; But a light glows in the shadows.** _

_**A soul so bright but a heart so heavy; A day so long you forget the night** _

_**Yang and yin, Yin and yang; never together and never apart** _

_**Fates twist and fates connect; Fates fade and fates grow** _

_**Soldier of freedom and soldier of peace; Sky and ground and love and light** _

_**Help and lead and learn and seek; Help and follow and teach and find** _

_**Fear find courage; Pride find humility** _

_**Yang and yin; Yin and yang** _

“What does that mean?” Dean asked when he was done reading. He looked up to see the two men staring at him with a look of shock and wonder.

“Never thought I would live to see the day.” Mumbled Lancelot. Turning to Merlin he started to discuss plans for needed to be done, talking so fast that Dean didn’t even bother to try and follow the conversation.

“What does it mean!?” Dean shouted getting annoyed with them for ignoring him.

“It means that we will be seeing you again Dean.” Lancelot finally answered, “But for now you need to go home. Merlin?” Merlin walked over to Dean and placed a hand on his shoulder. With a metallic taste in his mouth, Dean opened his eyes to find he was sitting in his own room at home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean is (12~13 years old)

2 years later

            Dean tried not to think of that night two years ago as much as he could. He threw himself into his training and school work, much to the delight of his parents, and at night his sleep walking stopped. And if he was being honest with himself he had gotten pretty great at ignoring it. That was until he met his new training instructors. His thoughts going back to that morning when things were simple.

 

            “Dee, wake up, wake up wake up!” An excited seven-year-old shouted, bouncing up and down and the, now wake, twelve-year-old.

            Opening his eyes, Dean found his younger brother sitting on his chest.

            “Sammy, why, in the great land of everything, why are you waking me up right now?”

            “Because,” he said like he was having to restate the obvious, “you’remeetingyournewteacherstodayandmomwantstomakesurethatyougetallyourmorningchoresdonebeforetheygetherewithdadanddadsaidlastnighthowwewereluckytogetthemastheyseemlikegoodtrainersandmomanddadagreethatiftheyturnouttobegoodteachersthatIcanjoinyou!! They’llletmejoinyouintrainingeventhoughIknowtheystillthinkthati’mtoyoungand… UMGPHS”

            “I just woke up and you’re talking like Jo snuck you four bags of candy. Now get off me and try to tell me that again at a normal pace.” Dean laugh, his hand still over Sam’s mouth, until Sam licked it, making Dean retract his hand. He wiped it on Sam’s shirt as he got off him.

“Bitch.”

            “Jerk.” Sam responded automatically, “But what you didn’t let me finish is- “

            “Finish?! I couldn’t even understand what you had started.” Dean sated as he gets ready.

            “Well if you had been paying attention what I said, before you rudely cut me off, was that you’re meeting your new teachers today and mom wants to make sure that you get all your morning chores done before they get here with dad. And dad mentioned last night to mom, how we were lucky to get them as they seemed like good trainers and mom and dad agree that if they turn out to be good teachers that I can join you!! They’ll let me join you in training, even though I know they still think that I’m too young and could get hurt.”

            “Well then let’s get working.” Dean replied just as excited to meet his new instructors as Sammy was.

            It took them just over two hours to finish all their morning chores, putting their excitement to good use. They had just finished up lunch when they heard their fathers horse, Baby, neighing in the front yard. The boys looked at each other before running for the door, each for different reasons. Sam ripped the door open and made a beeline to their father, John, to give him a hug. Dean just stood in the background and waited. Finally, their father looked up and locked eyes with his eldest son making his eyes shoot to the ground.

            “She needs her cool down walk and brushed.” He said before handing him Baby’s reins. “And don’t forget to give her fresh hay.” John said before going inside, shortly followed by two figures. But Dean didn’t see them, his eyes had yet to stop examining the blade of grass that was so interesting. It wasn’t until he was half way to the barn with Sam by his side that he even looked up.

            “I hate how he treats you, you know.”

            “Yeah, Sammy.” Dean replied, opening the barn with help from Sam

            “Plus, with the teachers here, then we won’t have to see him as much.” Sam nudged Dean’s shoulder.

            “God Sam, the man is our father. We should want to spend time with him. We should wish for him to be gone all hours of the day!” Dean snapped, tugging Baby’s brush off the wall.

            “Just because he’s our father doesn’t mean we have to like him.” Sam mumbled from the crate he was sitting on watching Dean brush Baby down.

            “I know Sam,” Dean said with a sigh as he hung Baby’s things up, “but will you at least try. For me?”

            “Yeah, Dean” Sam said hopping down.

            “Great,” Dean smiled.

            “So did you see your teachers?”

            “No.” Dean told him walking a little faster from the anticipation.

            “Then come on!” Sam remarked, before taking off.

            “No fair!” Dean ran after him.

 

            By time they both got back to the house, they were panting hard. Bent at the waist trying to get their breath back before they went into the house.

            As they came walked to where they heard the voices coming from, they rounded a corner and Dean saw his mother and father talking with two men whose backs were towards the entry way.

            “Ah, boys, good your back.” Their mother, Mary said with a smile.

            “Dean, met your new teachers,” John stated. At that the two men stood and turned towards the brothers. Dean thought he recognized them… _No!_ “Lancelot and Merlin, will be taking the guest rooms in the west-” John hadn’t even finished his sentence before Dean had taken off for his room.

            His room was close enough that he could still hear them talking, even though they were a little muffled.

            “I take it he isn’t normally like that?” A voice he thought was Lancelot, asked.

            “No. He’s not normally a shy child.” His mother answered, sounding confused.

            “I’ll go get him.” Dean could make out his father’s gruff voice before the sound of footsteps could be heard coming towards his room.

            “Dean open the door.” John said, pounding on his door. Dean, knowing he didn’t really have a choice, opened the door and stepped aside to let his father in. John walked through the doorway, and closed the door. Turning to Dean, he grabbed his upper arms.

            “When we have guests over what do you do?” John asked in a fake kind of calm.

            “Sit close, stay quiet.” Dean whispered loud enough for his father to hear.

            “So then, what do you not do?!” His voice losing some of the calm and his hands tightening to become almost painful on Deans arms.

            “Run to my room and hide.” Dean whimpered, squirming, trying to get his father’s hands off his arms. “Dad, it hurts.”

            “Be quiet Dean.” Hands tightening even more. Like cutting off the blood flow to Deans hands would keep him quiet.

            “Now I am going back out there, you are going to follow me and apologize,” he gave a squeeze for emphasis, “for your behavior.” John told Dean, before letting go and heading out to rejoin the others. Before Dean followed he rolled up his sleeve to see that the bruises were already forming. Pulling his sleeves back down he joined the others after apologizing for how he had acted.

            Dean tried not to think of that night two years ago as much as he could. He threw himself into his training and school work, much to the delight of his parents. And if he was being honest with himself he had gotten really good at it. Though now, with the two men in front of him, it was kind of hard not to. It was hard not to think about the flaming hands, or the box that lit up when he had touched it, or the words that were carved into it. The words were hard to forget seeing as how a few hours after he had gone to bed that night, a searing pain had wrapped around his left arm, and when he had looked the same words from the box glowed on his skin.

            “Hello sirs,” He made his voice as dull, stiff and impersonal as he could, “I must apologize for my recent attitude. I have given some thought to it and my actions were disrespectful.”

            “Good. Now, I’ve been called on again so your training will start once I leave, alright.” John said, leaving no room for discussion.

            “Yes sir.”

            Turning to Deans new teachers John started talking about what he wanted by time he got back.

            “Now I should be gone no more than three months. I want you guys to focus on hand to hand combat for now, make sure he wears body weights. Once he gets older you can move on to swords. Though I would have him practice with a weighed practice sword.”

            John talked with Deans new teachers for hours going over what he wanted and didn’t want, and Dean just sat there giving the proper response when it was needed. The only time he got away was when he had to help his mother with dinner. All the while wondering what he did to deserve this twisted mess.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter I feel, i pretty much filler.
> 
> ~~~~~~  
> No beta-reader. All mistakes are mine. (and spell check)
> 
> ENJOY

             It was a fortnight before John left. That meant that it was his first training session with Lancelot, as Merlin had taken over their book learning. Dean was a little surprised when he walked out into the training field to find none of the things his father had wanted him to train with, out.

            Apparently Lancelot knew what he was thinking, as he gave a knowing smirk from the table that sat in the middle of the area.

            “I thought what your father had planned was stupid. So I decided that we’re doing this my way. Come. Sit.”

            When Dean got to the table he noticed that it was covered in children games. He looked over the batch more carefully once he had sat down. _No way this is my training._

            “Pick a game.”

            “What?!” He hadn’t heard that correctly.

            “Pick a game.” Lancelot repeated hand crossed on the table.

            “Um… alright.” Dean looked then pointed to a stack of three cups with a ball on top. He had been pretty good at it as a kid.

            “Good. So I assume you know the rules.” It was a statement bot a question, but Dean still answered.

            “Yeah.”

            “You know how it works?” That was an actual question.

            “Yeah, the person who control the cups, in this case you, move the cups around trying to confuse me as to where then ball is. If the controller is good enough, then they move the ball from cup to cup.” Dean stated

            “Well, forget the rules, that’s not how we play it here. The part about the ball though that stays the same. What I want from you though, is that not only are you going to pick out which ball the cup is under but I want you to be able the grab the ball without disrupting my rhythm. If you guess the wrong cup or disrupt my rhythm, then you get a penalty. Enough penalties will result in a punishment. And for punishments, well, let’s just say that you should try not to get those. And to make it even more fun for me, I’m not going to tell you how many penalties will get you a punishment.” Lancelot finished in a laugh.

            “Alright.”

 

 

            Dean officially hates this game. For the past three months he had been trying to get that stupid ball from the cup, or at least guess which one it was under. And for the past three months he had been wrong. He hurt all over from his punishments, and honestly he was getting so fed up with it.

            He sits there watching the ball so closely, positive he knows which one it’s under this time, so when the cups stop moving, his hand darts out to touch the cup on the right. Lance picks up to reveal no ball. Instead he picks up the middle cup, and there sitting nice and still is the tormentor of Deans life, the ball.

            “Alright, that’s another penalty. That brings you to… a punishment!” Dean just groaned to tried to even fight back like he had the first few weeks. “Alright go put on the wrist, upper arm, chest, and ankle weights, then give me three miles.” Dean stayed seated looking at Lancelot expectantly, the punishments were never this easy. Well easy compared to the other punishments he had been put through. “Oh… how could I forget. Ten, fifteen, fifty, and fifteen, six sets.”

            That was more like it. Dean thought reluctantly has he headed over to where the body weights were kept.

            By the time Dean was done with his punishment dinner was already on the table, but all he wanted to do was collapse in his bed. Which is what he did after grabbing a muffin from the morning and a cup of water.

 

            It was two days before John came back when he finally did it. He had already gone through three punishments that day, and he was just getting so pissed at the thing that he just wanted the ball to stop. So he did the only thing he could think of to make it. He shot his hand out as fast as he could when he saw the ball moving from cup to cup. He didn’t open either hand until Lance had stopped moving the cups, knowing he had missed the ball again. But when he opened his hand, resting right in the middle of it was the little red ball that had been the bane of his existence these last three months.

            “I…I have the ball?” Dean asked, not entirely sure of what he was seeing.

            “Yes, you do. You were able to grab the ball without disrupting my rhythm.” Lancelot answered sounding impressed. Dean just handed over the ball, and nodded to the cups.

            “Again.” Feeling like he could really do this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean is 16  
> _____________________  
> Sorry for the short chapter. I have a German class this quarter and have been studying like crazy for finals. Let me tell you, never choose to learn German as your first foreign language.

           The next few years followed the same pattern, when John left, Dean would have to play these silly children’s game never seeing the point of it. That was until the fourth year of training under Lancelot.

            “Pick a game,” Lancelot said, like he always did. But Dean wasn’t having it this time.

            “No.”

            “What do you mean ‘no’? I am your teacher Dean. You listen to what I say. Now pick a game.”

            “No.” Dean repeated more forcefully.

            “Dean…”

            “No, I’m done. I’m done with these stupid games; I’m done with your stupid training methods; and I am most currently **done** with this bullshit way of you treat-” Dean wasn’t able to finish his rant before a loud **_BOOM_** sounded throughout the area, shaking the ground. Looking over in the direction of the house, Dean just saw a large black plume of smoke rising into the air. “SAMMY!!” Dean yelled, running back to the house.

            By time Dean had reached the house, flames were leaping out the windows of the second floor. He could see his mother bent out the waist, covered in soot, standing outside the back door.

            “Mom, where’s Sam?!”

            “He... nap… He’s still… I tried-” She wasn’t able to finish the sentence because she was panting so hard. But he got the general understanding of what was going on. Running into the house with shouts of Dean behind him, he headed up to the second floor. Dodging around parts of the ceiling that fell, he pulled his over shirt off to make a make shift breathing mask.

            “Sammy! Sammy!” Dean shouted as he made is way down the second-floor hallway.

            “Dean.”

            “Sammy! Don’t worry. I’m coming’ for ya. I need you to keep talking though.” He yelled through the smoke. Even with his mask it was getting hard to breathe.

            “Dean. I’m tired. Can’t I just take a nap? Just for a little bit?” Even though Dean knew he was getting close, his brothers voice seemed further away.

            “Sammy!! SAM!” Dean voiced bounced around as he came crashing through the door into Sam’s room. In the middle of the room was a wall flames and on the other side was Sam. Dean took just a few seconds to catch his breath, before running through the flames towards his unconscious brother. He felt the licks of the flame against his skin, but ignored it, fighting his way through, he picked up Sam and gave him his shirt to hopefully help with the smoke. He started heading back the way he came when the floor groaned and clasped in front of him.

            Turning around, he looked for other ways out. _Think Dean, think._ Scanning, his eyes fell on Sam’s window. _The barn!!_ Dean ran over to the window and pushed it open. _Yes!_ Underneath Sam’s window was the pile of hay Dean had been meaning to move. He didn’t waste any time throwing Sam out the window and onto the hay pile. Dean was just getting ready to follow him out the window when the floor beneath his feet groaned and gave away.

            The last thing he remembers is hearing his family call out for him, and something heavy and hot, really hot, hit his side.


	5. Chapter 5

He was cold, shivering even. But somehow at the same time he was hot, burning. He felt like hot as hell and kept having cold flashes. To make matters worse he could feel the start of a migraine coming.

Dean opened his eyes, expecting to find himself still under beams of his house. Only to instead see trees, directly above his head. Stand up, he looked around. He found himself in what appeared to be a clearing in a forest. Through the trees, he could see a cabin, smoke billowing out of the chimney. The closer he got, the more details he could see. The cabin itself looked well taken cared for though it had ivy climbing the sides, the land around it was tended to, and as Dean got closer to the front door, he saw what had to be the fluffiest creature he had ever seen. It looked like someone had taken a cloud out of the sky and tried to form it into something that resembled a dog.

“Are you going to stand there all day or come in and sit down?” A kind voice asked, pulling him out of his inspection of the ‘dog’. Looking up he saw a woman, no older than thirty with bright red hair that had streaks of purple running through it. She looked kind, with a soft burgundy shirt, black pants. And even though she had a pair of swords on her hips he didn’t feel threatened by her, he felt…

… he felt safe. Like nothing could harm him. Like he was free from every worry he had ever had.

“Well, come on.” She gestured for him to follow as she turned around and headed further into the house. Standing back up, Dean brushed the dust from his pants and rushed after the woman. Only skidding to a stop when he entered the biggest room he had ever seen. “Are you going to stand there staring or sit down? We don’t have a lot of time you know.”

“Sorry,” he said, rushing towards the armchair that sat across from the woman. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, who are you? Where am I?” his question almost silent, as he could feel the power that rolled of this woman in waves.

“Both fine questions, child. I,” she took a sip from a glass of wine that appeared from nowhere, “I am the Goddess. I was the one who inspired your mighty Greek and Roman gods. Puny as they are, they’re impressive.” She gave him a little nod, like she was congratulating him on that. “As for where, my home of course. Where else was I supposed talk to you? Your home?” she laughed, “Okay, okay. We have a limited amount of time, and there is so much that I need to tell you, but first I have a question for you.”

“What question could a goddess have for a human?” He was curious.

“Well, what is the purpose of a rubber duck? Has that been invented yet?” By the confused look on his face she assumed not. “Ugh, sorry, I’m always getting my timelines mixed up.”

“That’s okay?”

“Anyway, the writing on your arm, to makes things easy, it’s your future, your fate.”

“What?!” _This woman can’t be serious._ “What do you mean ‘it’s my fate’? All it’s talks about is something called yin and yang. I don’t even know what ‘yin and yang’ is!”

“DO NOT RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME!!” Her voice rang through the air. Thunder and lightning crashed outside the window, making the little house shake.

“Sorry,” he whimpered, sinking back into the chair.

“You pathetic little mortals! Always thinking that since you can’t understand it or don’t know what it is, you can ignore it. Treat it like trash, even!” She paced from side to side in front of the couch until she seemed to have just given up. “Honestly,” she started, throwing an arm over her eyes, “I don’t know why I try anymore. I do things, good things, but no one seems to care. I helped Merlin show the sword to Arthur. I brought rains to drought heavy lands. I showed freakin **_man_** how to use fire. And yet still for some reason people seem think that I either don’t…” she mumbled under her breath. Running a hand over her face, she sat back up.

“Yin and Yang, they are thought to be opposites. Each with a little piece of the other inside them,” she explained as she started to draw. “Yin is the dark and negative side. Yang is the bright and positive side. Together they balance each other and the world around them. You are the Yang.”

“How am I the Yang?”

“Read me the poem but skip the parts about Yin.”

Dean looked down at his arm and started to read. “ _Yang and yin, Yin and yang; Wrong and right. Born of light and love; Welcomed and cherished. Raised in honor and pride; Taught faith and loyalty. Yang and yin, Yin and yang; Good and bad_ …”

“Skip to the end. The ‘never together-’ part.” Waving her hand to hurry him up.

“… _Yang and yin, Yin and yang; never together and never apart. Fates twist and fates connect; Fates fade and fates grow. Soldier of freedom and soldier of peace; Sky and ground and love and light. Help and lead and learn and seek; Help and follow and teach and find. Fear find courage; Pride find humility. Yang and yin; Yin and yang_. I still don’t see how I’m Yang.”

“ _Born of light and love; Welcomed and cherished_. You were born from the love your parents had for each other, and the light in their hearts. _Raised in honor and pride; Taught Faith and loyalty._ Honor and pride, that’s your father if I ever heard a description.  Your teachers, Lancelot and Merlin, taught you values like faith and loyalty. As much as you believed yourself to be Yin when I first told you about them, you are and will always be Yang. And as Yin and Yang are meant to be, so are you.”

“What about that last bit you had me read? And if this Yin is so important, why aren’t they here?”

“Because you must go to them. Deep in the forests of Purgatory, there is a lake.” She waved her hand in the air and the image of a forest popped up, it blurred through the trees until it stopped at a lake. “You must enter the forest alone, or all is lost. Only you and Yin are to walk out of that forest, or all is lost. Be careful, be aware, and be smart.” By the end of the sentence the Goddess and her world were starting to fade out, like he was waking up.

“You never answered the first part of my question!” He yelled feeling incredibly rushed. “What about the last part of the poem? Why did I have to read it?!” All he got for an answer was smirk that screamed ‘I know something you don’t know’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should I continue this?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, schools is back in session. :(

Dean didn't want to open his eyes. His skin felt tight, his mouth was dry, and he felt like someone was trying to pound a nail into his skull, in a room that was kept at a steady two hundred degrees. But no matter how hot he was, he was still some how freezing. He tried to pull the blankets around him closer, when searing pain shot through his torso causing him to let out a low groan.

“Dean?” He felt a hand on his shoulder. “MOM!! Dean, are you awake?” Sam, the voice belonged to Sam.

“Sammy I love you, but if you don’t lower your voice I might have to shoot you.” Dean mumbled out, eyes still closed.

“Sorry. MOM DEAN’S AWAKE!!” Sam yelled towards the door. It wasn’t until he had finished that he realized what he’d done. “Sorry.”

Footsteps pounded down the halls, as the four people who hadn’t been inside the room came running. Mary was the first one through the door, soon followed by John, Merlin, and Lancelot. But unlike the others she didn’t stop at the door. She kept up her run until she had Dean in her arms. They stayed like that for a good minute or so, then she pulled back. Keeping one hand on his shoulder, she hit him on the back of his head.

“Dean Michael Winchester, don’t you ever scare me like that again.” She admonished, before bringing him in for another hug. “I was so worried. I thought I might have lost one of my boys.” She backed up so she could look him in the eyes. “What made you think running into a burning building was a good idea?! When the floor collapsed, I thought I had lost both my sons, ‘til Sam came running around the corner screaming that you were inside. Then Merlin got you out and it was touch and go for the first day or so. And I don’t think… I don’t-” By the end of Mary’s confusing lecture she was sobbing in John’s arms, and Dean was confused.

“Mom? You said first day. How long was I out?!” Dean looked around the room, daring someone to connect with them and answer his question.

“You were out for about four days Dean. Merlin checked everything, you should have been up some time two days ago. No one could figure out why you weren’t.” Sam whispered from the side of his bed. “Dean,” Sam looked him directly in the eyes “you could have died. You almost did a few times.”

“Well, I’m fine now Sammy. I’m fine, you’re fine. No one really got hurt.” So why when those words came out of his mouth, did everyone look so guilty? “Someone got hurt, didn’t they?”

“Look at your chest.” Dean pulled the blankets away to find that his entire chest was covered in white bandages.

“If I were to take these off, how bad would the damage be?” Dean asked so quietly that it was a good thing everyone had grown silent or else no one would have heard his question.

“If I’m being honest with you Dean, it’s bad. Like really, really bad.” It seemed only Sam could answer him.

“Oh. Okay.”

No one realized at the time that Dean’s voice was dead. Not a hint of the emotion that once lived there could be found. It was as if Dean had just given up, like he realized something was just too big for one man, one mortal man, to take on by himself.


	7. Chapter 7

The change in Dean happened so slowly that no one really noticed. He would stay in his room longer sometimes, eat a little less at meals, and slowly, he would snap at people faster. He would yell at them to go away and leave him alone. It wasn’t until about five months after the house fire that Sam started to notice something was _really_ wrong with his brother.

 “Come on Dean! This is a chance to celebrate without mom and dad.” Sam was excited. He had just passed his last exam needed to continue his schooling. Dean could see the joy barely contained in his face.

 “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming squirt. After all, it’s not every day that Mr. Brainiac gets to show off his smarts.” Dean joked with a forced smile.

“I’m not a squirt Dean. I’m almost as tall as you!” Sam straightened his back and puffed out his chest, to try and help his point. “Now come on, mom didn’t remove our curfew for us to just stand here.”

 

 

Walking into the Roadhouse was nice because the place was so familiar. Dean had spent almost as much time in that bar as he had inside his own home. Ellen, the owner, had been like a second mom to the two young brothers. Watching them when their parents wanted some alone time or if both of their parents had to leave town for a bit.

“Well, look who the cat dragged in. Sam and Dean Winchester,” Jo, Ellen’s daughter, said looking up from where she was wiping down the counter at the sound of the door. “Thought the two of you were never coming back.”

“Now Jo, you know we would never be able to live with ourselves if we didn’t see your face at least once more.” Deans sarcasm, which normally was so thick that it could knock over a house, just wasn’t. But luckily for Dean, no one noticed.

“Shut it Winchester, before I kick you out.” Jo snapped a towel at Dean as the two brothers slid into a booth.

“But Jo, we haven’t even had our first drink. We’re celebratin’ tonight.”

“Oh yeah. What?”

“Ya see Sammy here-”

“It’s Sam, and I’ve passed all the tests I had to take to continue my schooling!”

“Well then, this is a celebration.” She reached under the counter and pulled out two of the bars ‘good’ beers. “First round on is on the house.”

“Thanks Jo.” The brothers raised their drinks in thanks to her then took a long swig. There was a nice burn as it slides down their throats.

“So, Sammy, how do you feel now that you’re becoming an adult?”

“No different than how I felt yesterday, or last week or even last year Dean.”

“Then we need to change that. I know exactly what you need. JO,” he yelled, turning towards the bar. “GET _SAM_ HERE A WHISKEY!” Turning back to his brother, Dean finished off his beer. “Now that girl over there, no don’t look. She’s been looking at you like you’re Christ reborn. So, you are getting laid tonight, no excuse.” Dean had just finished when Jo came to their table. Setting down two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey, Jo glared at Dean.

“Ya know, just cause you need to have liver failure doesn’t mean you should put your brother in the same position. And mom says you aren’t getting anything else tonight.” She went back to the bar. “So, make it last.”

 

 

 

After about two shots of whiskey, plus their previous beers, the boys were feeling a pleasant buzz. So, Dean, in his slightly buzzed mind, tried to get Sam to get up and go talk to the girl who had been undressing him from across the room.

“Dean, I’m not sure about this. I don’t have one-night stands.” Sam argued, fighting his brother who was pushing him out of his seat.

“Which is exactly why you need one. I’m gonna stay here, finish the whiskey. I want you out of this bar _with that girl_ by then. Okay?”

“Dean this isn’t like you. You’re normally the one going out and sleeping with random girls.” A look of worry on Sam’s face.

_Don’t look at me like that Sam. I don’t need pity, or worry._ “I’m fine Sammy.” Dean tugging on the end of one of the long sleeve shirts he’d been wearing for the past few months. _I deserve what I got, I deserved worse. But like hell I’m letting you know what’s going on in my head._  “And I mean come on, what kind of brother would I be if on your big night, I took all your options? Not a very good one. So, go Sam. Get drunk, get laid, and get a god-awful hangover.”

Sam shot his brother one last worried look before heading over to the girl’s table. Dean just sat there watching his brother. Making sure the kid was having a nice time, while he finished off his glass of the whiskey.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you’re all alone over here.” The sound caused Dean to look up from his glass as a tall brunette slid into the other end of the booth. “And see, I just can’t think of a reason why anyone would leave someone as hot as you all alone.”

_Well at least she’s straight forward_. “Came here with my brother,” Dean sent a small nod towards his brother who looked to be in the middle of a heated debate with the woman. He took another long swig of whiskey, finishing off the bottle Jo had left. “We’re celebratin’. I’m Dean by the way.” Flashing her his most flirtatious smile.

“Lucy, and what do you say we get out of here Dean?”

Looking up Dean couldn’t spot his brother, so assuming his brother was already getting laid, he stood up and offered her his hand.

“That sounds like a great idea Lucy.”

 

~~~

Soon after Dean had left Sam, who had been in the bathroom, made his way towards Jo to find out where his brother had gotten to. The blond was refilling drinks when he got to the bar.

“Hey Jo,” He called, leaning over the counter to gain her attention. “Have you seen Dean. I can’t find him?”

“Yeah, he left about fifteen minutes ago, with this brunette chick.”

“Oh…”

Jo set down the glass she had been cleaning, to look at the worried look on the younger Winchesters face.

“Why, is something wrong?” Honest worry clouded her face.

“Well, it’s just that…” Sam rubbed the back of his neck, not really sure if it was his place to be sharing this. But in the end his worry won out. “…Since the fire, Dean hasn’t really been the same. He keeps to himself more, he’s been _only_ wearing his long sleeve training shirts, and he’s not eating as much as he normally does. I’m just worried that something happened to him, and we both know that I can’t talk to him about to. Hell, no one can talk to him about it because he refuses to actually talk to people.” By the time he was done Sam’s head rested in his hands, the weight of it was visibly pushing him down.

“Sam, Dean literally saved you from a fire that destroyed like half your home. I don’t blame him for acting a little off. Just give him some time. He’ll be back to his annoying self in no time, trust me.”

“I know. I know.”

~~~  
  
---


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for what's about to happen

   
  
---  
  
Dean and Lucy hadn’t even made it to her home before they were pushing each other up against walls for heavy make out sections. Lucy pulled him into an ally almost no one went through. Dean pushed her up against the wooden building, Lucy’s legs wrapped themselves around his waist as her fingers wound their way through his hair. One of Dean’s hands stayed on her ass to hold her up, while the other one made its way up to her tits.

“Your shirt needs to be off already.” Lucy panted in his ear. Planting her feet firmly on the ground, she reached for the bottom of his shirt, and before Dean could stop her, pulled it up over his head. He heard the little gasp that escaped her, as his shirt fell to the ground, and knew that was the end of his night. Dean knew what she saw.

“Oh my god! What happened?!” Placing a hand over her mouth as she took a step back to get a better view.

“Fire,” was all Dean got out before looking at her face. Just by the look disgust that sat there let him know where this was going. He could already feel the cringe he was about to make.

“I’m… I’m sorry I can’t do this. This,” Pointing to his chest, “was not what I was expecting.” She stepped back even further, like even being close to Dean might transfer some of the burns to her. “I mean, god, it looks like burnt leather.” He heard her mumble as she collected her things that had dropped.

Picking up his shirt, he pulled it back on. _Why did I even try to do this? I knew! I knew it wouldn’t work!_ Dean admonished himself.

“I mean, I hope you have better luck next time, I really do. But beef jerky isn’t my favorite thing.” Lucy said before slipping away.

_She’s right and you know it. No one wants you now, I mean just look at yourself. Mom only sticks around out of pity anyway, and Dad stays for Mom. Your brother can go to college, he doesn’t need you anymore. He’s a grown man. And yet he stays. It’s you, you’re holding him back. You’re holding everyone back._ Dean’s mind yelled at him on his walk home. _You messed everything up. Maybe you shouldn’t have woken up in the first place. It would have made everyone’s lives so much easier._ His mind making the same argument it had since he had first woken up. It was easy to ignore at first, the sense that maybe it was right, but the more he heard it, the more Dean couldn’t help but agree with some of the things. And by time he had made his way home sleep seemed like a good idea.

 

~~~

Over the next few weeks Dean had stopped going out. All he did was learn about magic with Merlin, train with Lancelot, help his mother in the kitchen, eat and sleep. He had refused so many invitations into town that everyone was starting to worry. Sure, Dean was excelling in his training, as John was happy to hear, but everyone else Knew that that was because it was basically all he did. Help, train, eat, sleep, repeat. He never went out, hardly talked to anyone outside his family. Eventually, Sam had had enough, he talked to Lancelot and Merlin, his mother too, and they all told him the same thing- when Dean was with them he threw himself into whatever they told him to do, almost like he was trying to forget something else by working himself to exhaustion and everyone had learned by this point to just not ask what was wrong unless you wanted to get your head bitten off. So, Sam wasn’t sure what was going on with his big brother, but he did know that he was only getting worse. So, he made a vow to himself, he would figure out a way to help his brother no matter what he had to do.

~~~

That same night as Dean, who had no idea what was rumbling through his brothers’ head a few doors down the hall, tossed and turned in his sleep, a young woman stepped out of the moon light towards the elder Winchesters bed. Placing a hand on the boy’s head, she mumbled something that got lost in the wind from the open window.

“For the sake of us all child. You must find him.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of my summer break starting here's three chapters  
> :D

Dean and Lucy hadn’t even made it to her home before they were pushing each other up against walls for heavy make out sections. Lucy pulled him into an ally almost no one went through. Dean pushed her up against the wooden building, Lucy’s legs wrapped themselves around his waist as her fingers wound their way through his hair. One of Dean’s hands stayed on her ass to hold her up, while the other one made its way up to her tits.

“Your shirt needs to be off already.” Lucy panted in his ear. Planting her feet firmly on the ground, she reached for the bottom of his shirt, and before Dean could stop her, pulled it up over his head. He heard the little gasp that escaped her, as his shirt fell to the ground, and knew that was the end of his night. Dean knew what she saw.

“Oh my god! What happened?!” Placing a hand over her mouth as she took a step back to get a better view.

“Fire,” was all Dean got out before looking at her face. Just by the look disgust that sat there let him know where this was going. He could already feel the cringe he was about to make.

“I’m… I’m sorry I can’t do this. This,” Pointing to his chest, “was not what I was expecting.” She stepped back even further, like even being close to Dean might transfer some of the burns to her. “I mean, god, it looks like burnt leather.” He heard her mumble as she collected her things that had dropped.

Picking up his shirt, he pulled it back on. _Why did I even try to do this? I knew! I knew it wouldn’t work!_ Dean admonished himself.

“I mean, I hope you have better luck next time, I really do. But beef jerky isn’t my favorite thing.” Lucy said before slipping away.

_She’s right and you know it. No one wants you now, I mean just look at yourself. Mom only sticks around out of pity anyway, and Dad stays for Mom. Your brother can go to college, he doesn’t need you anymore. He’s a grown man. And yet he stays. It’s you, you’re holding him back. You’re holding everyone back._ Dean’s mind yelled at him on his walk home. _You messed everything up. Maybe you shouldn’t have woken up in the first place. It would have made everyone’s lives so much easier._ His mind making the same argument it had since he had first woken up. It was easy to ignore at first, the sense that maybe it was right, but the more he heard it, the more Dean couldn’t help but agree with some of the things. And by time he had made his way home sleep seemed like a good idea.

 

~~~

Over the next few weeks Dean had stopped going out. All he did was learn about magic with Merlin, train with Lancelot, help his mother in the kitchen, eat and sleep. He had refused so many invitations into town that everyone was starting to worry. Sure, Dean was excelling in his training, as John was happy to hear, but everyone else knew that that was because it was basically all he did. Help, train, eat, sleep, repeat. He never went out, hardly talked to anyone outside his family. Eventually, Sam had had enough, he talked to Lancelot and Merlin, his mother too, and they all told him the same thing- when Dean was with them he threw himself into whatever they told him to do, almost like he was trying to forget something else by working himself to exhaustion and everyone had learned by this point to just not ask what was wrong unless you wanted to get your head bitten off. So, Sam wasn’t sure what was going on with his big brother, but he did know that he was only getting worse. So, he made a vow to himself, he would figure out a way to help his brother no matter what he had to do.

~~~

That same night as Dean, who had no idea what was rumbling through his brothers’ head a few doors down the hall, tossed and turned in his sleep, a young woman stepped out of the moon light towards the elder Winchesters bed. Placing a hand on the boy’s head, she mumbled something that got lost in the wind from the open window.

“For the sake of us all child. You must find him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.......
> 
>  
> 
> Lucy


	10. Chapter 10

When Dean woke up the next morning, he had an overwhelming headache, and thoughts of blue which he couldn’t quite place yet. He lay there in bed waiting for his head to stop feeling like a horse had trampled it, before moving to get ready.

As he sat in the house bath, visons of messy black hair, soft unworked hands, unearthly blue eyes that seemed so familiar, and an almost subconscious thrum of **find** , flooded his head. On his way back to his room, more visions came, some were simple; a forest, a small town, a tan over coat. While others were more complex; an intricate series of paintings, all different yet all of the same thing, from the same perspective. In his mind, they over lapped and formed the most incredible painting Dean had ever seen. Eyes that crinkled as if to show that the owner was laughing but still somehow, really sad. Because of his headache, Dean spent the entire day in bed, trying to think of who had features like this and why he felt so compelled to go out and try to find them. Eventually, with nothing else to do, he fell asleep.

`~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Dean felt like he was awake, he did, but at the same time he knew he was dreaming. He had never really had lucid dreams, only ever the memory of his dreams and what they felt like. So, he was almost sure that he was in a dream. It also helped that he was in a place he didn’t really recognize, he just had a sense about the building. In front of him stood a magnificent stone cottage. It felt like home for some reason.

Dean looked down at himself and his surroundings, and was shocked to find that after living his entire life in one city or the next, that that wasn’t the case here. No matter which direction he looked, all he could see were trees. But what shocked him more was what he was wearing. Instead of the tightly fitted, fine fabric clothes his father always made him wear, he was in a pair of brown pants, with a loose white long sleeve undershirt, which was covered with a light brown tight-up shirt. Clothes his father would never have even let Dean think of getting.

Before he could spend any more time trying to figure out where he was or why he was dressed this way, a creaking sound on the porch of the cottage drew his attention. His eyes shot to the source of the sound, only to find a figure he couldn’t exactly make out, it was like his eyes didn’t want to focus on it. But looking at the person, he didn’t feel any fear, or hatred, or even shock. Instead he felt like he was safe and home and, the feeling that scared him, love.

“Don’t you think it’s time to come in? You’ve been working out there for a few hours now, and it’s almost ready.” It sounded like the figure was speaking, and though Dean could understand what it was saying, he somehow knew that the voice was so distorted that it was hard to recognize it as even human.

_Who are you? Where am I?_ Dean tried asking but his lips wouldn’t work, instead founding himself saying “Yeah, babe, be right in. Just got to get a few things.” _What’s going on?!_ He tried screaming before realizing that his body was moving of its own accord. He was walking towards a shed he hadn’t seen before, as it had been hidden by the cottage. It was like Dean was trapped in his own head. Looking out through his own eyes, but not in control of his own body. He could comprehend what was going on, and he knew that somewhere in this brain, what should be  his brain, he could find out why this was happening. Through his eyes, he could see hand that looked like his, with more scars and wrinkles, but still his hand. Out the corner of his eyes, Dean spotted a mirror, shortly before his body turned to head in that direction.

The face he saw in the mirror is what scared him the most about this ‘dream’, as he was starting to call it. It was his face, that, he was expecting. What he wasn’t expecting though, were the grey hairs sprinkled throughout his head, or the slight wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, and on his forehead. The face that he saw in the mirror was his, but it was a much older version.

Dean was too busy studying his face to notice the figure that was leaning in the door way, but whoever was controlling his body wasn’t. Before he was done finding all the differences, he was facing the figure that had been standing on the porch. Dean looked them straight in the eye, or what he hoped was ‘straight in the eye’ as the figure was even blurrier up close.

“It’s time Dean,” the figure said walking up to him. They placed a hand on his cheek, and he felt himself lean into the touch. “Dean you need to find me. It’s important.” Now Dean was getting confused, if they were right there, why would I need to find them? “Dean, I know what you’re thinking and no, you haven’t found me yet. This Dean has, that’s true. But you Dean, you Dean need to find me before it’s too late this time.” The voice was bouncing around in his head, it was almost too much for him. “Dean, I’m sorry for what you’re about to go through, but know that you were promised a happy ending. You need to find me first, though. Please Dean, please come find me.”

_I’ll try_ , Dean thought, knowing they wouldn’t be able to hear him. _I don’t know who you are, or even where you are. But if you need my help, then you have it._ He could feel himself waking up with that thought. At the same time, he could feel the figure press their forehead to Dean’s, and right before Dean woke up he could have sworn he heard a faint “Thank you.”


	11. Chapter 11

Dean woke up right as Sam poked his head through his door to make sure he got up in time for breakfast. Running a hand over his face to wake himself up, he sent a nod to Sam to let him know that he got the message. At the sound of the closing door, Dean fell back onto his bed, arms spread out to either side, dangling off the bed. Staring at the ceiling he thought about the previous night. He wasn’t sure what to think about the dream. Sure, he had made a promise, but do dream promises really count? Shaking his head to clear it, he finally sat up and prepared himself for breakfast.

He could hear his family as he headed down the stairs. He couldn’t understand what they were talking about yet, but whatever it was, they seemed happy. He could feel Sam’s laughter in his chest, causing him to smile. By the time Dean got to the table they had stopped laughing, but his mother was still looking at his father with that glint in her eyes. It was a look that Dean had often hoped someone would direct at him, even for just a second. To have someone look at him like he was happiness personified. _Though that’s never going to happen now_ he thought, subconsciously placing a hand over some of his scars.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, taking a seat and grabbing his breakfast. Just the mere mention of what had happened caused Sam to start laughing again. It took a while for Sam to get himself under control, but before he could say something Dean just turned to his father with an expectant look.

“I just got a letter from an old friend of mine,” John started explaining, “we met back in school, he’s a history professor now. Most of his letter was just catching me up on new things, and before he was done with his letter he reminded me that I owe him one.”

“Alright…”

“When I went out to buy a horse for you, I had to go to a new guy, and he almost got me to get you a Cremello Akhal-Teke.”

“Dad!!”

“What?! At the time, I didn’t know what these horses were like. So, I’m walking behind the guy going to pay for the horse, when I see Bobby, that’s his name. I got to talking with him and told him how I was getting my son a horse and he asks which one, so I tell him a Cremello Akhal-Teke. He then proceeds to slap the back of my head, call me a moron, and bring my attention to the one he had been staring at. The sleek black mare, you now know as Impala.”

“Well, thank God for Bobby then.” He commented, eating his breakfast.

Throughout the meal, he gave little grunts or nods of acknowledgement not really saying anything. His brain to busy trying to figure out what’s happening to him to pay any real attention on the conversation at hand. _Was the dream connected to the sleep walking?_ That couldn’t be it, those had stopped shortly after he had met Lancelot and Merlin. _If not, then what caused it. Is there something wrong with me?_ That couldn’t be it either, not really. He had talked with a goddess for pete’s sake. _What is going on?!_

Sam noticed that Dean had zoned out of the conversation first. He didn’t think anything of it until dad made a joke and Dean hadn’t groaned in annoyance at their fathers’ sense of humor, that was also when Mary took notice. It wasn’t long after that, with some helpful glances from Mary, that John realized what was going on. And Dean, so lost in thought, didn’t realize everyone was looking at him, trying to get his attention. That is, until a spoonful of their breakfast porridge found its way onto his face. The shock of the assault caused Dean to snap out of his thoughts and focus back on his surroundings.

Before he could stop it, an extremely annoyed what had slipped out of his mouth, as he wiped the porridge from his face.

“Samuel James! How many times do I have to tell you not to throw food?”

“Sorry mom,” Sam apologized, hanging his head slightly, before finishing his sentence, “but it got his attention!”

“I don’t care, that’s not how things are done around here and you know that.” She stated before turning to admonish her eldest child. “Now I know you didn’t just use that tone with me Dean Michael.”

Before Dean had a chance to answer his mother, John put a hand on her shoulder, silently letting her know he would take care of this. Standing up from the table John made a motion for Dean to follow him and left the room, heading out towards the practice field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Sneak peak at next chapter ~~
> 
> By the time Dean met his father out on the field, enough time had passed that he thought of almost every way his father might punish him for talking that way to mom. Out of all the outcomes he was expecting, what he was greeted with on the field wasn’t it.   
> Standing in the middle of the field was … 
> 
> Leave a comment on what you think is in the field, or what should be in the field. REMEMBER it is a punishment.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic that I haven't really used a prompt for. And it isn't going to be a one shot. So let's see how this goes.  
> I know Cas isn't in this chapter but don't worry we will be seeing him soon.
> 
>  
> 
> Maybe. >=)


End file.
